


Better With You

by MagusLibera



Series: The Light in the Darkness [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Married Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Minor Character Death, Quarantine and Chill Fic Drive (Arrow TV 2012), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24945580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagusLibera/pseuds/MagusLibera
Summary: Oliver and Felicity reunite on Lian Yu before they are finally able to travel home together.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: The Light in the Darkness [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534367
Comments: 44
Kudos: 82





	Better With You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm over a month late with this one so first off: thank you to everyone who's stuck around and waited for this for so long! It's my 40th fic too! I'm so happy.
> 
> I call this the 'bridge' and it mostly exists because I saw an opportunity to use the Reunion prompt for Q&C.
> 
> If you're reading this and you haven't read parts 1 and 2 of Light in the Darkness, I would recommend doing so or a lot might not make sense. However, in case you want to give this a go without doing that, here's a recap:  
> Oliver and Felicity met, fell in love and married during the summer after Oliver left Hong Kong, and he went to Starling instead of Coast City. Amanda Waller then abducted Oliver from their home and sent him to Lian Yu to fight against Reiter. Oliver sent Constantine to watch over Felicity. He also faked Vlad's death instead of killing him and Reiter never discovered the idol. Felicity teamed up with Waller and Lyla to speed up Oliver's mission and bring him home sooner. At the end of Pure of Heart, Felicity was shot in the chest and nearly died until she miraculously healed.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!

Felicity is unsure of how long she and Oliver spend kissing but it feels like far too soon when Lyla taps her on the shoulder, breaking the moment. Oliver continues to hold on to her in a protectively tight grasp with one hand as his other snaps out to capture Lyla’s where it is touching Felicity and twist her away instinctively.

“Oliver.” Felicity soothes, “Oliver, this is Lyla. She’s my friend.” He takes a moment to assess the agent, taking in everything from her placating body language to her A.R.G.U.S. gear to the way that she stands vigilantly over Felicity. Something in his mind must shift, because he is then looking at Felicity to confirm that her words are true and in the next second he has released Lyla and is refocusing on his wife.

“What happened? How are you okay?” he asks, checking her over.

Felicity looks down, trying to process the last few minutes but struggling to make any sense of them beyond a blurry idea. Her entire chest is soaked in blood – _her blood_ – her tactical gear stained red with the sheer volume of the liquid. It is enough that she should be at the very least severely anaemic right now, if not dead. _She should be dead_. By all rights, that bullet had torn through her body ruthlessly, bursting open her heart where it beats in her chest but now the only evidence of anything ever happening is the blood pooling around her and a tear in her clothing.

There is no injury. No gaping wound, no broken skin, not even a bruise. Just smooth, paler than usual flesh. Oliver is marvelling at it too, his hand stroking gently over the exposed skin beneath the bullet hole in her jacket.

“How are you alive?” he chokes as he says it, a haunted expression taking over.

“I… I don’t…” she racks her brain, unable to find an answer.

Oliver, still marvelling at the fact that she is alive, slides his hand from its rest over her heart, aiming to cup her cheek in his palm. He barely gets halfway before he is jerking his hand back with a hiss, examining the finger.

“Oliver?” she panics, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He insists, “It just felt like something burnt me when my fingers touched your neck, but it doesn’t look like anything is wrong.” He shows her his unblemished hand before starting to resume where he left off.

“Wait!” Felicity exclaims, grabbing at his hand before he can touch her neck. “God, I can’t believe I didn’t already realise!” cautious, she feels around for the chain that she knows hangs around her neck, remembering how it had burnt her skin mere moments before. When she finally finds it, it still feels warm to the touch, but not burning. Pulling the jewellery from her neck, she starts to explain, “John Constantine gave me this before he left – before we came here. It’s a necklace, he gave it to me and told me to keep safe!”

The pentagonal star pendant appears from beneath her clothing. It is mangled and disfigured, like it has been bashed in and melted all at once and it barely even resembles the pleasing shape that has accompanied Felicity for the last few days.

“Oh.” She says, disappointed that it has been destroyed. For as much as John has annoyed her and for as unpredictable as he has been, she has grown fond of him. And this was all that she had left to remember their time together. She has no idea _if_ she will ever see him again, never mind _when_ , and she feels an acute sense of loss looking at the wrecked hunk of metal.

“John Constantine gave you that?” Oliver asks, inspecting the item with interest.

“Yes.” She replies, forlorn.

“I guess we both owe him our lives now.”

“We do?” she asks, checking over him for injury.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything.” He places his hand on her cheek, no longer at risk from the magical object that saved her life, “Right now I just want to enjoy-”

“Taiana!” a hoarse, masculine voice screams, “Taiana!” the second time it is desperate, a hint of despair seeping through and then that same voice wails. A haunting, mournful sound. It gets Oliver’s attention, he stands up without hesitation, bringing Felicity with him and letting her feet hit the ground as his hand instinctively seeks out her own.

“Taiana.” He whispers, and then he is taking off in the direction of the sobbing, Felicity in tow.

*************************

They arrive upon a horrible scene, a circle of ex-prisoners and A.R.G.U.S. agents has formed around it, and Oliver does not stop to think for a second before he breaks through, carving a path for he and Felicity – who he still refuses to let go of, it is too soon since nearly losing her. The first thing that becomes visible is a man, hunched over something and shaking terribly. Devastated. Vlad, the man is Vlad. And then, Oliver sees what Vlad is hunched over, the only thing that could destroy him so thoroughly. Booted feet, limp legs, a distinctive red puddle growing around the scene.

“Taiana.” He whimpers.

It gets Vlad’s attention and the distraught man leans back just enough to reveal his bleeding sister.

“Oliver.” He cries, reaching out for the man who freed him. Oliver uses his free hand to grasp the man he has grown so close too, offering the support that he knows Vlad so desperately needs, as he sinks to his knees on Taiana’s other side.

“How?” he asks through the lump in his throat.

Lyla answers, having followed the couple on their journey to Taiana, “There were four shots. The first hit Felicity, the second you dodged, Oliver, and the third you also dodged, but I never saw where it hit.”

“Who did this?” he asks angrily.

“Baron Reiter.” She answers, “I shot him in the head.” She nods in the direction that the fanatic’s body lies, and the group of people around them parts to reveal a slumped mass of camo fabric, unmoving.

Oliver lunges to his feet, fury pouring from him as he does so, needing to do _something_. Anything. He needs to make sure Reiter is dead, and if he is not then he is going to make that tyrant _suffer_.

“Vlad.” A soft, strained voice utters, and Oliver forgets all about Reiter, the man who would have killed his wife had it not been for John Constantine and who shot his friend. Because the weak voice behind him is Taiana’s.

Squeezing Felicity’s hand in a way that part of him recognises must be painful for her – but the rest of him needs so that he can know that she is safe and alive and with him – he kneels back by Taiana’s side.

Weakly, she is reaching up to Vlad, eyes affixed on her brother, “Vlad.” She repeats, “You have to get home.” Her hand is shaking with the effort of holding it up to her brother and he quickly takes it, lessening her burden, “You have to get mum safe, you have to stop him.” She begs.

“You can come with me,” Vlad insists, “You’re going to be fine, Tai, you’re going to be okay and we can go home together.”

“Vlad.” She coughs, blood bubbling from the corner of her mouth. Oliver knows that she is not going to make it, the only reason she is not already dead is because she is holding on for long enough to get her brother’s promise, “Vlad you promise me. You do whatever it takes to take down Kovar. _Whatever_.”

Vlad’s mouth opens and closes several times, torn between giving his sister her last wish and his insistence that she will not die. “You don’t get to leave me, Tai.” He sobs, “You have to fight, you have to survive.”

Oliver realises that Vlad will never give in, he cannot accept the fact that his sister is about to die, not when she is all that he has left and he needs to hold on to the hope. That is something that he can relate to. When he had been home – the first time he had seen Felicity – watching his sister sink into a drug habit had been devastating, imagining what it could lead to, imagining losing her to it, it had been unbearable.

“Taiana,” he says, softly, gaining the dying woman’s attention, “I promise you I’ll get Vlad home and I will do whatever needs doing, I will get him whatever he needs, to save your mother and stop Kovar from hurting your people. I swear.”

She relaxes visibly, the tension and fear draining from her body even as Vlad looks at Oliver, a broken man, begging for the archer to give a sign that there is still hope, “Thank you, Oliver.” Taiana’s eyes catch on Felicity’s hand in his, “Who,” she pants for a moment, “Who is this?”

She is looking for a distraction, something to take her mind off her inevitable death and Oliver will do whatever he can to make her final minutes peaceful and happy rather than terrifying, “This is my wife.” He admits, “Felicity.”

“Your wife?” Taiana exclaims as much as she can exclaim in her condition, “You are married?”

“Since September.” Felicity informs her, kneeling beside Oliver to make it easier for Taiana to see her, “It’s nice to meet you, Taiana.”

“She’s pretty, Oliver.” Taiana says, “I hope… I hope you both get to enjoy your marriage now. I hope you can be happy.”

“Thank you.” Oliver manages to say.

“Taiana,” Felicity starts, “Can you tell me about your happiest memory, from when you and Vlad were children?”

Felicity has no idea who Vlad or Taiana are beyond the fact that they must mean something to Oliver. She knows nothing about their history or why Oliver knows them or what is happening, but she is still able to make the other woman smile. Her kindness will always be one of the things that Oliver loves most about her, it is unending. For her to be tearing up as she talks to a stranger, just because she can feel the sorrow emanating from Vlad and Oliver is incredible.

Gratefully, Oliver pulls Felicity in closer to him, holding her tightly and thanking his lucky stars that Constantine had the foresight to give her that necklace so that he did not have to lose her – to lose the best part of him. Taiana begins to talk, eyes shifting between hyper-focused on her brother and glazed over as she stares at the sky above them and she spins a tale of a young boy and girl, walking to a meadow and playing in a stream. It is the simplest of memories, and that is what makes it the most beautiful.

When Taiana passes, not long after finishing her story, they cover her body with cloth. Vlad picks her up, tears streaming down his face, and Oliver leads them all to the graves of Robert Queen, Yao Fei and Shado. He and some of Taiana’s once-prisoner friends dig a hole at the end of the line as Vlad stands stoically with his sister in his arms. Vlad whispers something unintelligible to the mourners as he lowers her into her grave and lingers, unwilling to let her go. It is Felicity who goes up to him and lays her hand on his shoulder, helping him up. Before she leads him back to Oliver, she crouches down, takes a handful of dirt and sprinkles it into the grave.

As soon as Taiana is buried, something comes over Vlad. A determination, rooted in anger that dries up the tears. Losing her has hardened him, Oliver can already tell, and he knows that his friend will regret not giving Taiana the promise she asked for until the day he too dies. But he also knows that Vlad will fight to the last in order to do what she had asked.

*************************

To Oliver’s displeasure, Waller had been on the same transport as his wife and has taken over once they all return to the camp. He is sorely tempted to grab a gun and shoot or at least march over and introduce her to his fist, but he is also aware that he is surrounded by her agents and he has Felicity to consider. Though he knows that she would fully support him doing so, by the way that she is glaring daggers at the director.

Containing himself, he turns to Lyla instead of Waller and makes his requests, unwilling to speak to the woman who stole from him months of his first year of marriage. Who left these people to be tortured and enslaved, only a single, mostly helpless agent sent to save them. Just because she was curious about something and was more concerned with information than human life. Oliver knows that she could easily have stormed the island and taken over, stripping Reiter of his powers at any point since his operation began, but she chose not to. She chose to tear him from his home and let everybody suffer.

He will never forgive her for that.

So he lets Felicity give the woman her deadliest stare as he organises transport for all of Reiter’s prisoners to get home. Lyla helps as he sets in place everything that Vlad will need to get back to Russia and to be able to start taking down Kovar, the other man shakes his hand and they wish one another the best and that is that. Then he and Felicity are finally free to board a transport with Lyla – and separate of Amanda – and hand in hand they fly home, too exhausted to do anything other than lean into one another, safe in their embrace.

*************************

Walking back into his home feels like a dream. For a moment, he is convinced that it _is_ a dream. Seeing his kitchen just as he left it that morning, so many months ago. Seeing the sofa where Felicity stitched him up and decided he would be living with her from then on. Seeing the door to their bedroom, where he had loved his wife at every opportunity before he was torn from her side.

Exhausted as he is, all that he wants to do is slide into their bed, but he is well aware that he is still covered in Taiana’s blood and the filth of the last few days and he refuses to taint their bed with that. With those memories.

Telling Felicity that he is going to take a shower, he gives her a lingering kiss, letting her non verbally welcome him home, before turning and making his way into their bathroom. Some of the blood has encrusted his clothes to his skin, and he closes his eyes as he peels it away, not wanting to think about losing his friend anymore. The shower feels magical. He has not felt warm, running water over his skin for months, only the ancient, sputtering cold of the rudimentary showers Reiter had set up for them.

He just stands there for several minutes, letting the water wash over him, draining away the visible stains of the last few months. The water is so soothing that, once he has finished cleaning himself, he loses himself to it, and does not hear somebody entering the bathroom until it is too late. The shower door creaks open and he snaps, expecting Conklin or Waller to be there, gun aloft and murder in their eyes as he twists an arm painfully.

Felicity’s soft cry brings him back, making him realise that he is hurting his _wife_.

“Felicity!” he gasps, already hating himself for hurting her as he stumbles back to the opposite end of the shower and slumps against the wall, “I- I can’t- I’m so, so-”

“Don’t you dare apologise, Oliver Smoak Queen.” She says fiercely, “I should’ve known better than to come in here unannounced, that’s not on you.

He wants to disagree, but is distracted by what he notices she is wearing. A robe. Just a robe. Loosely tied around her waist and exposing her chest, which is still blood soaked and still completely, miraculously healed.

Forgetting his need to apologise, he reaches out to her, “C’mon.” she pulls the tie on the robe and lets it fall to the floor. Oliver greedily drinks in the sight of his naked wife after months alone, but cannot fully enjoy the view that is sullied by the scarlet streaking down her body. She steps into his arms, allowing him to pull her tightly to his chest for a long, peaceful moment before he begins to gently wash her. There in nothing sexual about it, just a man who loves his wife and wants to take care of her.

As soon as he is done, he and Felicity just hold one another under the steady stream of water, both completely clean, taking comfort from one another. Oliver has no idea how much time passes with he and Felicity curled around one another but at some indeterminate point, Felicity tilts her head up, her arms around his shoulders and she pulls him down to meet her lips.

He kisses her gently, more so than ever before, but still she whimpers against him. Her shoulders are trembling, her hands grasping desperately at his shoulders as she tries to assure herself that he is real. That he is actually there. Oliver understands the need, he can hardly believe that his hands are actually on her skin himself.

Knowing that both of them need some way to reassure themselves that they are actually together, he lifts her smoothly into his arms, her legs hooked over his hips. There is a part of him that wants to pin her to the shower wall, to feel her back in his arms as hard and fast and rough as he possibly can but there is a weariness that has sunk into his very bones and the part of him that needs to lavish her with his adoration is far stronger than the violent, desperate side of him.

Turning off the water, he walks her out and sets her on the countertop, relishing in the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair. He dries the both of them as swiftly as he can before lifting her back into his arms and laying her out on their bed. It is the softest thing that he has lain on in months and he can feel the tension draining from him as he sinks into the warmth of his bed – of his wife’s arms. He is relaxing, a drowsiness overcoming him as he does so but even as the sheets beckon him for sleep, the sight of Felicity, naked and sprawled out on those sheets is far more enticing.

Their tongues dance together as he settles over her, needing to feel her safe, needing to cover her body with his like he was unable to mere hours before the bullet pierced her skin. They make love softly, slow and welcoming and pressed together as tightly as they can possibly be as they exhale in breathy gasps and murmur tender words of love against one another’s lips.

*************************

Weeks pass and they fall back into a routine. Felicity throws herself back into work and the search for the source of QC’s corruption and in her spare time she does some digging into Amanda Waller, determined to make the woman pay for the extra pain in Oliver’s haunted gaze. For the new nightmares that she has given them both.

Oliver, meanwhile, throws himself into being a househusband. With her, he is as attentive and loving and caring as ever. Maybe even more so, grateful as he is to be home and to have her back, which is something that she knows he must have feared never getting again. But in everything else, there is a disconnect, like he is not fully there, his mind occupied elsewhere. Whenever he is in the field, he is as ruthless as ever, and puts the criminals away under Felicity’s guidance just as effectively, if not more, than before he was taken. But he is rarely in the field, and whenever he is, it is obvious that he is just passing time until he can return home. Some nights he does not go at all, preferring to stay home and cook Felicity’s dinner and give her back rubs and let her make him watch whatever show she is educating him about. And the nights that he does go out, he often cuts short.

Not to mention his attitude every time Felicity suggests that he considers returning to his family home and letting his mother and sister – and step-father-to-be, since Walter proposed to Moira – know that he is alive and well. He shuts down the second that she even begins to talk about it, just repeating “I’m not ready.” Every single time and, more worryingly, he will sometimes even say “I’m not ready to be Oliver Queen again.” as if Oliver Queen is a separate identity to Oliver Smoak Queen or the Hood, and not the same man.

For as happy as they are, something just feels off to Felicity. Whatever it is that is taking Oliver’s focus from his efforts as the Hood – whatever it is that is making him so reluctant to see his family again, even though he was ready to before he left and Felicity had been expecting him to rush to Queen Mansion the second he got home – it is stopping them from moving forwards with their lives. And Felicity knows that they will not be able to be truly happy, their lives cannot really start, until Oliver has worked through whatever it is.

Which is why she returns home from work one day, just over two and a half months after Oliver’s return, determined to sit him down and make him talk. She has given him time to sort it out himself, but he has not, and she cannot help but need to get them through whatever it is.

*************************

“Oliver!” she calls out, walking through the doors.

He appears from their bedroom, a large grin spreading over his face the second that he sees her, as it always does, “You’re supposed to shout ‘Honey, I’m home!’” he jokes.

“Your wit is as sparkling as ever.” She deadpans, accepting his kiss after he walks up to her, “We need to talk.”

A wariness clouds his smile and she notices his fingers rubbing together in that way that they do whenever he is anxious, “If this is about going to see my family again,” he says, “I’ve already told you, I’m just not-”

“Not ready, yes, yes, I know.” She finishes for him. “It’s not about that – well, not directly, anyway. But it is about _why_ , after nearly three months being home, you’re still not ready to even discuss it with me.”

His jaw clenches and he runs a hand through his hair, “Felicity,” he sighs.

Felicity cuts him off again, “Please, Oliver.” For the first time in months, she lets him see how much his behaviour has been concerning her, “I’ve given you months to try and sort whatever this is out on your own and if it was just the not seeing your family thing or even if you’d just talk about the _possibility_ of seeing them in the future at some point, then I could probably let it go. But I’m not oblivious, Oliver. I see how distracted you are in the field. I see you avoiding putting on the hood, and avoiding your family and it seems like the only thing you aren’t avoiding these days is me and us and our marriage. And don’t get me wrong, I love our marriage and I’m so happy that you’re as invested in it as I am, but I feel like the rest of our life has been put on hold.

“Nothing is moving forwards, Oliver. We’re stuck in the same place that we were when you first got home. It _scares_ me to see you so distracted on the field,” her voice trembles, “Because I worry that one day your distraction will get you hurt. It scares me to see you avoiding going out as the Hood because I know how much your mission means to you. It scares me to see you avoiding your family because I know how much you love them and how much you want to see them again. I know that there’s something on your mind, something that’s holding you back and if you don’t address it and you don’t do something to get it out of your mind then I’m scared that you’ll never be able to move forwards and I’m scared of what could happen.”

She rushes it all out as fast as she can, wanting to say her piece before she loses the nerve and she watches Oliver’s expression soften from frustration to a softer, tired concern. He says nothing for a moment, and just takes her bag from her hands, placing it on their nearby table, he removes her coat and hangs it up and then bends to slide off her heels. Once she has sunk a few inches lower, Oliver takes her hand and leads her to their sofa, sitting her in front of him.

“I haven’t wanted to say anything.” He admits, “You’re right, there has been something on my mind but I have been waiting in the hope that the problem would just go away because I don’t want to ruin everything. We’re _happy_.” He looks into her eyes, both begging her to stop him and resigned to saying what he has to say, “We’re finally together and we’re so happy and I don’t want to ruin everything.”

“Hey,” Felicity touches his cheek, “You’re not going to ruin everything. No matter what, I still love you and you will always have me. Her hand slides into his still cropped hair and she smiles, “Even if your hair is way too short.” She teases.

“You don’t like my hair?” he asks, surprised. He had been under the impression that the cropped look was a vast improvement from the mop that he had been sporting before.

“Well, obviously the style suits you a lot better but now it’s just _way_ too short. At least before there was something there for me to pull on while we’re having sex. Now what am I supposed to hold on to?” she complains.

He huffs out a laugh in spite of everything, she always makes him feel better, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

Turning his head to kiss the palm of her hand where it has moved back to his cheek, he takes a deep breath and continues, “It’s about Taiana.” He encircles her wrist with his, drawing comforting patterns on her skin, “I made a promise to her just before she died, to help Vlad in any way I could but it’s been months and I haven’t heard a word from him. I don’t even know if he made it home and I feel like I’m breaking my promise to her.”

Felicity’s heart sinks. She knows exactly what this means, she knows why Oliver has been struggling so much and why he has not wanted to bring it up. And she knows what she has to do.

  
“You have to go, Oliver.” She says, and his head snaps up to look at her, a protest on the tip of his tongue, “You’re never going to be able to settle until you keep that promise, and you know that you won’t feel like you’ve kept it until you go to Russia and do everything _physically_ possible to do so.”

“I’m so sorry, Felicity.” He cries, shoulders shaking, and the words a reluctant acknowledgement that he knows she is right, “I’m so sorry I made that promise. I’m so sorry that I’ve done this to us again.” Felicity pulls him down onto the sofa, settling herself in his lap.

She is crying herself even as she says, “You didn’t do anything to us. You made a noble promise to a dying friend because that is the sort of person you are and I love you for that. I wouldn’t want you any other way, your selflessness is one of the things I admire most about you. And I support your need to keep that promise, just as I will always support you.”

“I’m tearing us apart again.” he sounds like a destroyed man and he collapses into her chest, where she rests on his legs.

“You’re not.” She insists, broken herself, “You’re not. This will _not_ be like last time. This time you can take your phone and you will call me every day and I’ll set up Skype on your laptop so that we can see one another. It’s not going to be months alone again, Oliver. I promise.”

“I’ll be home so soon.” He says forcefully, “I will get this done as quickly as I possibly can and come home to you. I can’t be away from you for that long again, not even with phone calls.”

“I know you will do everything in your power to come home to me as soon as you can.” She says. And in that moment, she makes a decision. “I love you so much, Oliver Smoak Queen.” She sobs.

He removes his head from her chest to meet her lips, the kiss wet and desperate. They have no time to make it to their bedroom, they just pull of their clothes right there on the sofa and cling to one another as they move frantically, knowing that they do not have long left.

*************************

A few weeks later, Oliver is preparing to board an A.R.G.U.S. plane supplied by Lyla, a small bag of his belongings – including his hood and his bow – in hand. Both he and Felicity are crying, unwilling to let go of one another until the very last second.

“You promise me you’ll stay safe?” Felicity demands, “You promise me!”

“I promise.” He tells his beautiful, understanding, remarkable wife, “I swear to you, I will. I’m going to come home to you, Felicity. I’ll always come home to you.”

“And when you do, we can finally start the rest of our lives together. And you will get to see your family again.”

“Our family.” He reminds her gently, “They’re our family now.” His finger smooths over the ring on her finger, his own is already hanging from the chain around his neck once again.

“Our family.” She agrees. “And I can’t wait to meet them officially.”

“You will.” he promises, “You will.”

He kisses her again, one last time, hard and bruising like he is trying to leave an imprint of himself behind with her and then he turns, walking away quickly before he can change his mind.

So quickly that he does not hear Felicity whisper, “You’ll see me soon, my love. Sooner than you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, no. This is not the end. This part ties together parts 2 and 4, which will be heavily based in Russia. DO NOT WORRY. Oliver and Felicity will NOT be separated for the whole of part 4 like they were in 2. I'm not a monster, I couldn't do that to them.
> 
> Part 4 will also be a shorter one, like part 2 and then we will FINALLY get to Oliver's return to Starling and everything that comes with that in a full-length part 5.
> 
> I'll be back with part 4 ASAP, but I'm planning on writing something for NaNoWriMo next month so that will be my priority.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope to see you in part 4! I'm on twitter [@MagusLibera](https://twitter.com/MagusLibera).
> 
> [Black Lives Matter](https://blacklivesmatter.carrd.co).


End file.
